Whatever Happiness We Can Get
by Em Dixon
Summary: Even after a year and a half, despite what they said, Zuko and Katara can't deny that there's still something between them. All that's left is to decide what they're going to do about that something, and if they can live with those consequences.
1. Chapter 1

Zuko sat across the table from Sokka, the remnants of their dinner pushed to the side, weapons laid out between them. Zuko looked appreciatively at his hoard: two dao and three daggers. Sokka's sword, club, boomerang, and dagger didn't seem quite as impressive. Well, maybe his space sword, but he wouldn't ever tell Sokka that.

"Boys, can you not have your weapons on the table," Hakoda called from across the room.

"Oh, come on, dad. We've got to settle this."

The sun was just starting its descent, and a pleasant golden light shone through the windows of the Jasmine Dragon in Ba Sing Se. They'd all gathered for Iroh's grand re-opening a year and a half after the end of the war. Zuko had resisted coming at first, saying there was too much to be done at home, that tensions were still too high, that there was still too much hate aimed at him. Iroh had pleaded, said it was only for a few days by airship and that Zuko absolutely needed to learn how to make more than just hot leaf juice. Finally, he'd relented, and he was incredibly glad he did.

Zuko smiled as his uncle and Katara went around collecting dirty dishes from the tables. It was especially nice to see her. Zuko was still a little confused about where they stood after everything they'd done and been for each other during the war. All the secret sharing, the sparring, the hugging, the kissing… During the war, they'd found time to be more than just friends, and during that final battle, Zuko had put everything on the line for her. He hadn't expected to survive, but so long as he protected her, so long as she continued to live, he hadn't cared.

"Give it up, dad," Katara said as she stopped by their table. "I've been trying to get them to shut up about it since Ember Island. It doesn't work."

Hakoda chuckled to himself, shaking his head and going back to his tea. Zuko stood to help Katara, gathering his and Sokka's dishes, and when she smiled at him, his heart leapt. He would never be able to get enough of such a beautiful smile. He always felt at ease when she was near, and he'd missed her presence sorely. He walked with her back to kitchen, and immediately wanted to kick his uncle, because when he saw them, Iroh smiled slyly, made some excuse, and then returned to the main dining room.

"I hope you're not trying to dodge this because you've realized how inefficient your two swords are!" Sokka called.

"Seriously," Katara said, affectionately. "The two of you."

Then they stood in silence. Hesitantly, Zuko reached out to her, wanting to just touch her, but he stopped himself. After his coronation, when everyone was preparing to leave, they'd found one last moment of privacy, and in it, his heart had been shattered. Despite all their whispered words, despite how they felt, they knew it would never work between them. They'd agreed that they couldn't continue what they started. They had a brief interlude of happiness, but now it needed to be pushed away. No one else could know. They didn't need pity. Yet in their letters, there was still a desperate need for the physical and emotional closeness they'd shared. Zuko stepped back, further into the darkness of the unlit kitchen.

"How's your chest?" She asked finally.

Zuko shrugged, trying not to notice the light blush on her cheeks. He rubbed at his scar. He swore it itched whenever she was near.

"It's ok. The palace healers do their best."

The silence between them was awkward, but all Zuko wanted to do was pull her against him, breathe in the scent of her, kiss her, touch her… He stepped further back, not trusting himself.

"I… I should get back. Sokka and I…"

There was the lightest touch on his hand, like an electric shock, and he jumped. She had that power over him. She made him want to be so many different things for her, and whenever he saw her, he wanted to fight against all the people who blamed him for the war, or for the lives lost, he wanted to fight against those who called him a stain on the Fire Nations history and those who tried to kill him. He wanted to fight the world if it meant that, at the end, she could stand by his side for the rest of his life. But those were silly fantasies of a lovesick seventeen year old. They'd been through this already. It couldn't happen.

"I miss you," he whispered.

"Zuko, please," Katara said, turning toward the door. Turning her back to him. "Seeing you is hard enough I… We promised…"

Zuko stepped up behind her putting his hand on her shoulder and slowly, lightly trailing his fingers down her arm until he was holding her hand. He expected her to move away, and he steeled himself against that moment, but she didn't. She hesitated briefly, squeezing his hand before making an excuse and returning to the dining room. When she was gone, he felt colder, more alone, more isolated and without support than he'd been before. With a deep breath, Zuko tried to force away the hurt and empty his mind like he did before going to difficult council meetings, and pushed through the doors and into the dining room.

"Took you long enough," Sokka said as he sat down. "What did the two of you talk about? Katara seemed a little upset."

"Stuff. I don't know." Zuko shrugged, his eyes zeroing in on the blue at the table with Suki and Toph.

The stress was starting to return. Zuko could feel it settling right between his shoulder blades again. He didn't like Sokka watching him. He didn't like his uncle looking in his direction as he and Hakoda passed, heading to one of the store rooms. He didn't like Toph shifting around like that. He didn't like anything.

"Yeah. Sure," Sokka said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's 'stuff, I don't know' supposed to mean? Come on, inquiring minds and all."

"Suki's right, you know," Zuko said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "You're so nosy."

"And you're always so weighed down. By secrets _and_ weapons. I mean, look at this!" Sokka gestured dramatically at Zuko's weapons, masterfully shifting the conversation. "You don't even have enough hands for all of that."

"Are you kidding? Are you honestly going to tell me that if someone's coming at you from behind, you're _not_ going to reach for a dagger?"

"Of course I am. Sword and dagger is completely different from two swords, though."

"Yeah, it's way less efficient."

This was one of the reasons Zuko liked Sokka so much. The Water Tribe siblings always seemed so attuned to the emotions of their friends. The abrupt change in subject had shifted Zuko's attention away from the deep pain in his chest and made him release a little tension. He forced himself to stop looking at Katara's back, forced his mind to focus on this conversation, to finally, once and for all, get Sokka to admit that if he was going to sword and dagger it, he might as well just use two swords. It wasn't like he had to draw them both at the same time.

"Where's Twinkletoes?" Toph asked, rolling a pebble around the table. "He's been gone for hours."

She'd been teaching Suki a game she'd learned from some criminals in the Fire Nation. Zuko frowned. He should really talk to Toph about that.

"He went to the zoo," Suki said absently, studying the board between them. "He's probably trying to adopt some animals."

Sokka was saying something to him, probably about how his stupid space sword was better, but Zuko's mind was starting to wander off again. He rubbed at his scar. It was itching a lot lately, and every time it itched, it made him think about Katara.

"You've been doing that a lot," Sokka said. "Want me to get Katara to heal—"

"No," Zuko answered, perhaps much too quickly.

"Hey, don't bite my head off—"

"I'm back!"

The door flew open with a great gust of wind, and there was Aang, his arms wide and his face triumphant, and much to everyone's relief, he was without a hundred animals. Still, Zuko felt a little uneasy. Aang was just a little too happy, a little too satisfied. No good things were going to come from this.

"You won't believe who I found!"

Aang stepped to the side as Toph's face dropped and she muttered "you found trouble" under her breath even before they could see anybody, and the look she cast him set Zuko's nerves on edge. Zuko braced himself, already feeling on edge because he _knew_ that guy. That stupid idiot who would have turned them in to Ba Sing Se's police. That fool, who would have ruined everything when he and uncle were just trying to stay out of everyone's way. Things were finally starting to settle down for them, and then he came along, chewing his stupid wheat stalk and trying to out them as firebenders.

"Jet!"

Sokka was out of his chair first, disbelief in his voice as he took two hesitant steps forward, but Katara practically flew out of her chair, and a stupid irrational anger surged in the pit of Zuko's stomach because he really, really disliked Jet, and yet here was Katara, pure relief and excitement in her voice, rushing toward him. She threw her arms around his neck, and Jet _laughed_ as he hugged her, lifting her off the ground. There was a very loud voice in his head that kept chanting 'do it,' and the rational, responsible part of his brain was telling him to sit down or to walk to another room, to count to ten, anything to squash the anger. He was barely conscious of his hand moving closer to his sword as his friends turned to Jet with a thousand questions about what happened and how he survived Lake Laogai.

None of that mattered to Zuko. He tried to focus on his breathing and calm himself because Jet was putting Katara down, but his _hands_ were on her _hips_, and something inside of him was breaking and it hurt because she had just hugged him that way when he arrived the day before. Only he hadn't been allowed to put his hands on her hips. And he certainly, absolutely had not been allowed to kiss her and off to his left, he there was a loud whoosh and a blur of movement, and distantly, he could hear his uncle's voice calling him. He remembered the way Jet had spewed the word firebender like it was the worse curse you could put on someone.

Then Jet pulled his dirty, filthy, unworthy mouth away from Katara, and noticed him.

"You," Jet yelled.

He shoved Katara behind him protectively, shielding her with his body as if Zuko would ever harm a hair on her, as if Zuko hadn't given his life for her, and he felt his control slipping just a little more.

"Newphew!" Iroh's voice made a dent in the haze that was Zuko's mind.

Restraint. He needed restraint. But it was so hard.

"I told them you were a firebender! I told them, and no one believed me."

"We were minding our own business," Zuko spat, his voice dangerously low. "We weren't hurting anybody—"

"Not hurting anybody? You almost got me killed. I could have died, and it would have been your fault!"

"Hey, wait a minute, that isn't fair—"

"Stay out of this, Aang," Zuko said dangerously, his hand closing around his sword.

Everyone was frozen, just on the edge of action, and Zuko's breath came quicker because he'd had enough, absolutely _enough_ of people telling him that he was at fault for things he had nothing to do with. It was far easier to blame him, to turn their anger toward the Fire Nation than it was for them to work toward recovery. No one wanted to be held accountable for the terrible things they did during the war, but they were all too willing to blame him. Zuko was forced to sit there and take it, but he would be damned if he took anything from Jet.

"Of all the people in the Fire Nation that I'd find hanging out with the Avatar… It's you, the worst Fire Nation scum of all."

Zuko lost control over his body.

The fire was a tempest in the pit of his stomach and he exhaled steam from his nose as Katara moved, shoving Jet to the side and ripping water from somewhere because there were three globes of it hurtling toward him. They slapped into his face, covering his mouth and knocking him back as the cold almost burned him when the water solidified into ice. Jet stood, stunned, and Zuko had a smug moment of satisfaction, feeling the dark part of himself rising to the surface and taking control and doing his best to fight it because he didn't want to be that person. He'd been there before and had seen what it would do to him. Even still, there was such unresolved, barely contained hurt and anger inside of him, and he wasn't aware of what he was doing until he felt Iroh grab his hand and the power flow through his arm, and Iroh turned, redirecting the lighting out of the window and into a tree outside.

That set everyone into motion, and Zuko was kneed in the back, disarmed, and slammed painfully down on the floor, as Suki rushed toward Jet, knocking his arm down as he reached for his swords, and Hakoda was there, slamming the kid against the wall, twisting his arm, and Aang and Toph were standing in the middle, blocking Jet from his view, ready to end things should either boy move. The anger and rage was still boiling in Zuko, and now shame was flooding in because he knew what he'd done. Shame because he'd done what he promised himself he'd never do. He could see the disappointment in Aang's face, the sadness that his friend would stoop so low, but how could Aang even begin to understand what he'd been going through? What right did any of them have to judge him? He could shame himself enough. Slowly, Zuko melted the ice around his mouth, flat out refusing to look at Katara.

"What're you restraining me for?" Jet barked, grunting against the pain of his twisted shoulder, his face pressed against the stone wall. "Did you see what he tried to do to me? Killing me once wasn't enough for the Fire Nation, was it?"

"That is enough!" Iroh barked, bringing everything to order. "We are not directly responsible for what happened to you. Direct your anger at Long Feng and the Dai Li, not the Fire Nation."

"Let's not forget that you provoked this whole incident," Hakoda said, twisting Jet's arm even more.

"Let me up, Sokka," Zuko said, feeling completely drained, the tempest inside him calming. "I need to get out of here."

"Good idea."

Sokka moved, and Zuko stood, looking everywhere but at the faces staring at him. He didn't want to see them look at him with confusion and questions. He didn't want to see the disappointment that would be in their eyes. Zuko knew he was doing the same thing as Jet; he truly disliked Jet for nearly ruining what was becoming a peaceful existence for him and Iroh, but Jet had nothing to do with the anger the rest of the world was dumping on him. He had no right to put that on Jet.

"I get it—"

"No, Sokka, you don't," Zuko said, brushing off his friend's comfort.

At the door, Katara called to him, her voice soft and insistent, her hand reaching out to him. He started to turn and look at her, but all that filled his mind was the way she was in Jet's arms, how she didn't push away from him. That part of his mind that insisted that he wasn't good enough told him that what they'd shared for a few weeks, every secret, every touch, meant nothing. His scar itched, and he rubbed at it as he went out of his way to dodge Katara's hand. He pretended he didn't hear her sharp intake of breath, his name a half formed whisper.

Outside, the air was cooler, and Zuko took in deep breaths. When he breathed out, it was a long, shaky breath.

"Are you sure there isn't something you want to tell me about you and Katara?"

Zuko turned to look at Sokka. He didn't seem upset. Just…curious. When Zuko hesitated, Sokka raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, Zuko considered telling him everything, because maybe he'd interpreted things wrong. Maybe it was just the odds that made her confide in him things she'd never told anyone else. He'd offered her listening without judgment and he'd offered her understanding. He'd challenged her and pushed her to be better. When she couldn't sleep, she sought him out. She's shared his bed. She'd…

"And don't tell me that she brought you back to life, either. I know that. I was there. I saw." Sokka took a deep breath. "I hate to admit it sometimes, but Katara's a special girl. If—"

"We're good friends, Sokka," Zuko said curtly. "We work well together. We've told each other things we wouldn't tell anyone else. But Jet… For the past year, I've heard those things almost every day. Everything is my fault. Everyone wants to throw blame around, but no one is willing to work to fix what's wrong. I can't do it all by myself, and I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of being the bad guy."

"I know it's a struggle," Sokka said, putting his arm around Zuko's shoulder and leading him down the street. "Peace isn't going to be easy, and I don't think any of us had a clue about just how hard this would be. But you know we've got your back. We _always_ will."

He didn't question Sokka's loyalty and commitment, though. The nagging in the back of his head said that maybe he'd been a fool all along. Zuko absently rubbed his scar. His uncle called it stepping to the edge of the cliff. Trust in yourself, he would say, and even when you are blindfolded and cannot see where you step, your heart and your mind and your spirit will guide you down the right path. In one tiny, miniscule part of his life, Zuko had finally allowed himself to do just that: to step on the path blindfolded and just trust that what he'd shared with Katara, the thing he refused to call love, had been right.

Only now, with the blindfold removed, did it seem that he'd just fallen off the edge of the cliff.

* * *

A/N: So, this story ended up being much more massive than I'd intended it to be, but I have to say, I'm pleased with it. I kinda like the idea of Jet not being dead so that I can use him strategically where I see fit. Also, out of all the people in the show, I don't know why it had to be Jet who died, and it sort of felt...I don't know, at odds with a lot of what was going on in the show. Anywho, while Jet may have decided to stop trying to turn in the Fire Nation, I don't ever see him and Zuko becoming friends. Here, I imagine his anger being more personal. Though he may have painted broad strokes about the Fire Nation, all of it is aimed at Zuko. He got arrested by the Dai Li after their awesome Tea Shot Tabletop Showdown. And since Zuko's going through some frustrations with the FN, that kid of bled over.

This is also still in the beginning of his and Katara's relationship, so they aren't sure what they are to each other outside of Ember Island, or what they _can_ be to each other. Also, some Zuko/Sokka bro moments because they're besties for life. Hope you guys enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

Katara sniffled, glaring at the pile of dishes. Somewhere along the way, their pleasant reunion had gone so incredibly wrong. She hadn't wanted to talk to Zuko about what they'd been to each other. If they talked about it now, outside of Ember Island, that made it real, and it would make the pain of losing him real. It would mean that, for a few brief weeks, she'd found some measure of happiness. Now she would be searching for that again, and could possibly search for it the rest of her life and never find something a fourth as fulfilling as being with Zuko had been.

She'd only just begun to convince herself that it was truly in the world's best interest that they remain friends.

"Stupid boys," she muttered, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

Then Jet had showed up. Jet, whom they all were sure had died, who'd been saved with a lot of hard work. She'd been happy to see him, sure. She didn't hate Jet. She also hadn't known that Jet and Zuko knew each other, or that they had a whole antagonistic history.

"Katara?"

Katara started, quickly bending the tears away from her eyes and picking up another dish to wash.

"You've been back here washing dishes for two and a half hours. Is everything ok, pup?"

"Yeah, dad," she said weakly. "Yeah, I'm ok, I think."

Her father made a noise, and Katara turned slightly to look at him. He didn't believe her, but probably wasn't going to push the issue. At least not just then. He looked tired, though, and he ran his hands over his face with a deep sigh.

"Yeah, I know," she said, quietly. "I… I didn't expect him to do that."

"If he was so stressed, I wish he would have told someone.

Katara snorted. "Not Zuko. He doesn't share those things."

Hakoda made a face and raised an eyebrow as if to imply that Zuko was always sharing things with her. Huffing, Katara turned her back, hoping he didn't see her smile falter. On Ember Island, they hadn't needed boundaries. So long as they were alone, they could talk openly about anything they wanted. It was almost like a dream, those months when they're shared more of themselves than they thought humanly possible. And now…

"We don't get to talk like we used to," Katara said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's hard to figure out where we stand these days."

"You've been good friends to each other," Hakoda said. "I understand that things are…difficult. They'll only get more difficult as time passes. It will be hard, but if his companionship is truly worth it, I know the two of you will find a way to make it work."

Katara wanted to do something between laughing and crying, because her father didn't even have the slightest idea just how true that was. How true, how hard, or how dangerous. 

* * *

Sokka wasn't the least bit stable, but he had a plan and he had people who would help him carry it out.

"Suki, fetch my detective props!" he slurred.

Suki groaned, rolling her eyes. "Sokka, _please_, leave them alone."

"No, no, this is good," Sokka insisted, leaning against a chair. "I've got a hunch, and I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

Toph and Aang were sitting at the table, just looking at him, though Toph looked decidedly more hostile than Aang. Part of Sokka's hunch was that Toph knew more than she was letting on, but there was no way he would get anything from her. He'd been down that road before. Toph was virtually unbribeable. You could give her stuff, but she'd just take it and keep the information to herself.

His little field trip with Zuko had been enlightening. Out of all of them, it seemed that Zuko had certainly pulled the short end of the stick. His council was apparently resisting him at nearly every turn, no one wanting to give up even the tiniest, stalest, moldiest piece of bread to help the world recover from the war. So they'd hit a few bars, and despite being underage, they managed to get a few strong drinks simply because they were the Avatar's friends and war heroes. Slowly, Sokka had tried to pick at the issue he _really_ wanted to know about.

"Ok, so here's the plan," Sokka said as Suki came back with his props. "We need to get them alone together, and it's not going to be easy since they're mad at each other. So what we've got to do—"

"That's your plan?" Toph asked, looking bored.

"Hey, I'm the brains of this operation." He put on his hat and took a drag on his bubble pipe. "Now, listen—"

"Katara's in the kitchen, and Zuko's with Iroh right now. Shove them in a room together, it's not that hard," Suki said, grabbing Sokka as he leaned too far to the side. "Really, your father's going to be upset if he finds out the two of you have been drinking."

"I don't really think we should be interfering," Aang said nervously. "I mean… They seemed really upset."

Sokka narrowed his eyes at them. If his hunch was right, they'd end up thanking him. Katara hadn't been the same since they returned to the South, and Sokka knew that it was more than just the pain of war catching up to them. Whatever they'd done when Zuko took her to face their mother's killer had bonded them; when they returned, they were practically inseparable, and for the first time in a very long time, Sokka had seen his little sister open up and come alive. He'd seen her fight in a way he'd never seen her fight before when they sparred together. And Zuko? He'd seen Zuko _smile_. Not that self satisfied smirk of his, not a half smile, but an actual, unguarded smile. And he'd smiled at Katara. So, even if they were just friends like they kept insisting, they were the best kind of friends. Sokka didn't want to see two people he cared about hurting so deeply.

"If you don't want to help, that's fine," Sokka said, trying and failing to focus his eyes on Aang. "But I've got a hunch."

"I think I'm just going to go to bed," Aang mumbled. "Just in case things go badly."

"Maybe it would be better to let them work it out," Suki said, gently rubbing his back. "We wouldn't want to make things worse."

"I've got a hunch." 

* * *

Katara was finally done with the dishes. It had only taken her close to four hours. She was glad everyone had left her alone, though. She felt a little calmer, though randomly her heart would start hurting all over again. She was preparing to go to bed when there was a commotion just outside the door to the kitchen, and then her brother's voice. And Zuko.

He stumbled into the room, clearly having been pushed, and the door was slammed behind him. Katara kept quiet, watched him exhale a small puff of steam, as her whole body began to shake and hear heart beat quicker.

"I am never trusting you again, Sokka," Zuko mumbled, his words a little slurred.

Hesitantly, Katara took a few steps forward.

"Zuko?"

He whirled around, looking horrified, as if she was the last person he'd expected to see. Then he deflated, and a look she knew too well crossed his face. Not too long ago, she wouldn't have hesitated to hug him and reassure him that everything was going to be ok. She couldn't do that now. She didn't know that things would be ok.

"I hate your brother."

"You don't mean that."

Katara dried her hands on her apron, then turned as she untied it and placed it on the counter. When she looked over her shoulder, Zuko was watching her, leaning back against the door. He blushed when he noticed her looking at him, and this made her heart hurt again. He'd always blushed when…

"Where did we go wrong?" She hated the way her voice cracked.

Zuko shrugged. "Maybe there was never supposed to be anything between us. But it doesn't matter anymore. That's in the past."

"Zuko—"

"That's what we agreed, right?" He pushed away from the door. "It's never going to work between us, right? That's what we agreed. I'm sorry I even brought it up—"

"What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?"

"Acting like what?"

Zuko was standing right in front of her, and they were both breathing heavily, the air positively charged. She could feel the heat coming off him, could smell the alcohol. She wouldn't have to move much to touch him, to be right up against him. It would be a small thing, and it would bring them both so much joy. And so much pain.

Katara took three steps back, deliberately putting that space between them, even as she felt her chest tighten. She rubbed at her eyes, tried not to think about the way he held her whenever she cried, the way he would kiss the top of her head. That only made her remember those moments and compare them to whatever they weren't to each other just then.

"Why are you so angry? You could have killed Jet."

He turned away from her, sighing heavily. "I'm not sober enough for this, Katara."

"Then the two of you shouldn't have gone out drinking. Tui and La, no one should have served you anyway."

Katara picked at the fabric of her dress, not wanting to look directly at Zuko. Those feelings she thought she'd buried kept resurfacing, and she would try to tell the butterflies in her stomach to calm down. Seeing him when he first stepped off the airship… Nothing else had mattered, no one else had mattered, and now people had to force them to be together. It was almost like they were enemies again.

That hurt too much to think about.

"I wanted to hurt him," Zuko said quietly. "I know I don't have any right… You aren't mine, and I have no right to dictate what you do with your life, but fucking Agni, Katara, _Jet_?"

"Nothing happened between us. I had a crush on him, ok?"

"That was so much more than a crush—"

"I didn't know he was going to do that!"

"You didn't push away—"

"Are you _kidding_ me? Is that what this is about?"

Things were going downhill, and her stomach was in knots. They were both clenching their fists, on the verge of out and out yelling. Katara took a few deep breaths, watched Zuko pace like a caged animal, hating the look of hurt on his face, hating that she was the cause of it.

"I wish that's what this was about, Katara, because I could handle that. You know that. You know me better than that."

He was rubbing his scar. The scar he got saving her life. This wasn't about Jet or his kissing her. This was about what they had been.

"I can't ask you to destroy your nation for me."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. And it won't destroy the Fire Nation."

She could see the scenario in her head. She would say yes, and they would return to the Fire Nation. Assassination attempts would triple. His council would be entirely uncooperative, seeing her presence as Zuko's girlfriend as an affront to everything they ever stood for. It would be the salt on still bleeding wounds. She knew that Zuko would do his best to protect her, to shield her from the worst of it, but he couldn't always be around. They would challenge her, fight her on everything. She would have to give him firebending heirs, and if their first child was a waterbending girl, they would force Zuko to set her aside, jeering and deriding him. They would say that her water had doused his flame. They would send her back to the South, and Zuko would never see his daughter. They would never see each other again. They would give him some nonbending Fire Nation woman to marry, and he would have no choice. They would not accept Katara as Fire Lady.

"We promised each other," she said to him, not bothering to hold back the tears anymore.

"I thought…" Zuko sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I thought I meant something to you."

"Don't, please…"

"I'm trying, Katara, I'm trying so hard." He was rubbing his scar again. "But I can't… I can't get you out of my head. There are nights I go to bed thinking about you, and when I wake up, sometimes I swear you're right next to me."

Katara turned away, leaning on the counter for support as her whole body shook. She wanted to respond to him, to tell him that she felt the same way, that she couldn't feel the heat of any fire without the imagined sensation of his arms around her. She wanted to tell him every fantasy she'd had about a perfect life together, how she imagined that things could, one day, be right for them. But one of them needed to be strong. One of them had to say no.

Now was not the time for them to be selfish.

"We made that promise for a reason, Zuko, please don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Why are you being so cold about this?"

"Because one of us has to!"

She rounded on him, and Zuko took a few steps back. She hated that he looked so calm, that he hadn't even shed a tear, even though she could clearly read the pain in his eyes. She knew him too well for him to be able to hide from her, and she wanted nothing more than to make him give in to his sadness and crumble in a heap of tears. She wanted him to be a gross, snotty, weepy mess, just like she was.

"One of us needs to be strong—"

"This isn't strength, Katara—"

"We aren't allowed to be selfish. We can't sacrifice the world for our happiness."

"I'm supposed to be the pessimistic one. Why are you so convinced that this can't work?"

"Because it can't, ok? We've had this conversation before."

"We've given this world enough, and we'll keep giving it everything we have," Zuko said, desperately, finally taking her hand. "What about us?"

"There is no us!"

She ripped her hand away from him, turned her back and headed for the door. She refused to turn, to see the damage her words had done. Let him hate her, she pleaded to the spirits. Let this break him of his love for her so that he would have the strength to do whatever he needed to do. Let this be her greatest sacrifice so that the world might know peace.

She bolted out of the door, blew past Toph and Sokka who were the only ones left in the dining room, not bothering to quiet any sobs, ignoring her brother's horrified voice. She thundered up the stairs and slammed her door, burying her face in her pillow. 

* * *

Toph waited until Sokka was gone. She'd tried to convince Sokka that this was the worst idea, that this was something much bigger than him, but he wouldn't listen. Sighing, Toph slowly made her way into the kitchen.

"Zuko?"

"I can't, Toph…"

Her heart broke as she sat down next to him, and without a second thought, she threw her arms around her sobbing friend. It would be easier if she could hate Katara for doing this to him.

"I don't want her to be right," he said between deep, broken sobs.

Toph rubbed Zuko's back like he'd done for her, once. She'd warned him. Back when all of this first started.

She'd warned him.

* * *

A/N: I loved and hated writing this part. Keep in mind, this is 1 1/2 years after the war, so there's still a lot of anger and hurt feelings on all sides, and I honestly don't think Zuko and Katara would work so soon after the war. Or, if they did, I don't think they'd be very happy. They'd be fighting every day, and I don't think they'd have the freedom to just relax and enjoy each other. So they agreed to just be friends. But after being so much more than friends, it's hard to pretend like those feelings don't exist. Also, in a situation like this, it's hard to _not_ notice the tension between Zuko and Katara, and I think everyone would start questioning whether or not they really were just friends. By chance, I was rereading _Finding My Way Home_, and Sokka made a comment that he'd decided for himself about a year or so after the way that there was something between them. Conveniently, this lines up. And even if he didn't think they were something more, he'd still want them to make up. Even as just friends, I think they'd push each other to be stronger, better people.

Sara (you didn't log in so I can't reply to you directly): You're right. Zuko and Jet did work together on the ferry on the way to Ba Sing Se. And if you remember correctly, at the end of the episode, Jet thought he saw Iroh firebending his tea because it was cold. Smellerbee reminded him they were turning over a new leaf, but Jet continued to follow them, going so far as to steal the sparkrocks from their apartment, trying to goad one or the other into firebending. And finally, Jet entered the tea shop where Iroh and Zuko were working, and challenged them openly. Zuko and Jet fought, then the Dai Li took Jet away for reprogramming. I _did_ watch all the episodes. That's how I know Zuko and Jet didn't end on good terms.


	3. Chapter 3

He left the next day.

Zuko told them at breakfast that he would be returning to the Fire Nation, and by noon, they were saying their goodbyes on the docks. She didn't go to the docks with the rest of their family. He didn't care.

"I'm sorry," Sokka said, rubbing his head. "I feel like this is my fault."

"Things will be better," Hakoda said, pulling Zuko into a hug. "I know how much you mean to each other. You'll work things out."

"Please don't isolate yourself," Suki said. "You're going to need us. You both will."

"I'll talk to Katara," Aang said. "I'm the Avatar. It's my job to make peace, right?"

"Nephew, do not let this anger and this pain consume you," Iroh said, holding him close. "I know you are in pain, but do not forget who you are and everything you've worked for. Things will get better."

Toph just punched him in the arm. "I'm going with you, remember, Sparky?"

So he and Toph boarded the airship and sped back to the Fire Nation. For the entire trip, Zuko kept to himself and was glad that Toph didn't push him to talk about his feelings. She didn't complain when he spent most of his time in his office, going through reports. Sometimes she would sit with him, but mostly she left him alone.

* * *

The Fire Nation was much the same as he'd left it, unfortunately. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache blossoming as he listened to his council bicker over sending aid to the colonies. It had been two days since he'd slept.

"Lord Zuko, how much of our personal wealth do you expect us to give up?" once councilman yelled above the noise.

"When the treasury has finally been emptied, who will you steal from, Minister Ced? I am not half as dumb or negligent as you all would like to believe."

Zuko watched as Ced's face drained of color. Ced had perhaps been the boldest of those stealing from the Fire Nation, and with Ozai's focus entirely on the war and not at all on the nation's finances, it had been easy for many of them to transfer the Fire Nation's money to their personal vaults. That ended immediately. He was too tired, too angry to keep playing these stupid games. They didn't want a nice Fire Lord who would treat them like equals and ask them, rather than command them. Fine. He would give them what they wanted, and they would regret it.

"I expect you to be adults," Zuko said, slamming his hands down on the table. "This will _not_ be easy for us. Recovery will not be easy, but I assure you that hard work toward recovery is better than a war that was tearing our nation apart."

"We have sacrificed everything—"

"You?"

Zuko's voice was like poison, and he didn't have the strength to quiet the anger in him. He glared at every council member in that room, glared at them until they were all quiet, past the point of commanding attention, staring long enough to make them all uncomfortable. Slowly he stood, leaning his hands on the table, part of him happy that some of them were squirming and trying to get away.

"You know nothing of sacrifice," he said, his voice deep with anger. "None of you had sons or daughters in this war. None of you left the capitol or your cushy houses. You wear swords or daggers as pure ceremony. None of you fought tooth and goddamn nail for what you have."

They looked at him with surprise and confusion, but they were listening. He rubbed his aching scar, saw every one of those twenty council members look down at it, and some of them looked away, shamed.

"Sacrifice for you is missing the summer season at Ember Island. Starving for you is missing lunch. We _will_ be sending aid to the Fire Nation colonies, and we will treat them as proper colonies. Healthy people will be better workers, and in case you lot have forgotten, some of those profits go to the crown."

With a deep breath, Zuko stood to his full height, aware of the weight of his mantle pushing against his shoulders, and pushing back against it. He clasped his hands behind his back, stood before them as their king and their ruler. He reached for a little more of that anger. If shame was their motivator, then he would shame them. If anger got them to do what needed to be done, he would give them anger.

"I will not have it said that the Fire Nation can't take care of its own citizens," Zuko said, raising his voice. "I will not have it said that we have used war to hide our incompetence. I _will_ _not_ have it said that the Fire Nation is reduced to nothing."

He waited, fully expecting someone to argue against him, but they all remained silent. A few of them made notes and more of them scowled, looking off to the side, but none of them challenged him. Zuko turned to his Chief of Staff, Minister Hau. The older man shook his head; there was nothing else on the agenda.

"You are dismissed."

If this was the Fire Lord they wanted, then so be it.

* * *

After a month, Toph was preparing to leave.

"I'm proud of you for keeping in touch with your parents," he said as they walked toward her ship. "I didn't think you would keep it up."

"Yeah, well…"

Toph was digging in her ear again, and gently, Zuko pulled her hand down.

"Stop doing that. You're thirteen, now, and it's gross."

"Go ahead and tell me it's not proper."

"It's not proper, Toph, stop it. Play the game a little. It works."

For a moment, Toph looked surprised, as if she hadn't actually expected him to scold her. Then she kicked a small pebble at him, but she was smirking. Zuko tried to smile back, but he couldn't get the muscles in his face to move properly. His smile was probably more of a scowl. He was glad Toph wouldn't be able to see it. She punched his arm.

"I'll see ya, eh, Sparky?"

"Yeah. Don't destroy Gaoling. It's going to be yours someday."

"We'll see about that."

"It will. You'll do great things with it."

He stayed and watched her ship leave the dock.

* * *

Iroh responded to a letter from Zuko's Chief of Staff with dread. They rode toward the palace in silence, and Iroh wondered whether he should have accompanied his nephew back to the Fire Nation four months ago. Maybe it would have been better, because he didn't like the things that Minister Hau was saying. As he watched the city pass by him, though, it didn't seem that much was wrong. In fact, things were looking pretty good. There was a lot of construction, a lot of people working. The market was busy. Guards roamed around, but their weapons were sheathed. Iroh could almost let himself hope. Almost.

"Are you sure?" he tentatively asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Minister Hau said. "The atmosphere is noticeably different inside the palace. However, I won't deny that Lord Zuko has been extremely productive these past months. The council is working with him, to an extent. They do not want his anger directed at them."

Iroh nodded as the carriage stopped in front of the palace. Petitioners were lined up, and as Iroh and Hau passed them, he listened to them discuss the probability of meeting an irate Fire Lord, and some hoped they would get one of his ministers instead. Iroh didn't like how often he was hearing about his nephew's anger.

"The palace is closer to running with a crisp, almost military precision," Hau said as they walked through the halls. "I was not aware that our Fire Lord was so in love with schedules, but when she was here, Lady Toph assured me that this is something he picked up from Lord Sokka."

Hau gestured down a hallway, and Iroh nodded, keeping quiet, reserving judgment. Schedules were good. Schedules meant order, and order was something the Fire Nation desperately needed. Hau stopped in front of the door to Zuko's office and knocked three times. When there was no answer, he opened the door, and the two men stepped inside. Iroh's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"I believe, Minister Hau, that you said my nephew had a love for schedules."

"I did."

"This…borders on obsession."

There were schedules and calendars everywhere, a million little notes written in Zuko's strict, precise handwriting. Notes about meetings, projects planned, and expected completion dates. There were notes about farming cycles and factory production. There were notes about the airship fleet and the navy, about plans for converting the engines to steam. There were notes about birthdays and weddings, should he intend to reward one council member with a gift. Zuko's desk was covered with books in stacks, meticulously sized with the spines facing his chair so he could see the titles. On a second desk next to his, he kept countless scrolls, little pieces of red ribbon with tags attached to them with their names and reference numbers. On the walls hung diagrams of the city, a new insignia, new uniforms for the guards, what appeared to be a working list of what the Fire Nation could trade in the open market.

"As I said, Fire Lord Zuko has been very productive. His majesty keeps a grueling schedule, and holds us all to that same standard. Though the council would prefer not to admit it, he asks nothing of us that he does not ask of himself."

Hau paused and looked at Iroh. Perhaps all was not entirely lost if someone could have such respect for the things Zuko was doing, right?

"It has only been four months, but I have seen what the Fire Nation _could_ be," Hau said passionately. "With the cooperation of even a third of his council, Fire Lord Zuko could give our nation back some of its honor and dignity. He understands things in a way that his council cannot, and he may have tackled a hundred small improvements, but those improvements are adding up very quickly."

Hau exited the room, and Iroh followed, pushing his hands deeper into his sleeves. It was a little obsessive, yes, but also productive. There was a lot to keep track of, and it made sense to keep things like this. There was still a dread that worse things were to come, and when Iroh looked at Minister Hau, the man only sighed and nodded sadly. Iroh knew, and was supremely thankful, that Minister Hau looked after Zuko, not just as Fire Lord, but as a person. He'd been one of the first to swear fealty to the new Fire Lord even though he was still unconscious, and had been Zuko's right hand in governing the country, teaching him as much as he possibly could.

"Does he eat?" Iroh asked as they walked down another hallway.

"He does, though perhaps not as much as he should. He sleeps more these days than when he first returned, though I know that he often spends nights in his office working."

"I am not surprised that he has failed to mention this in his letters. Tell me, has he spoken of any of this to his friends?"

Hau stopped at the door that led to the training yard. Iroh had thought, and hoped, that they would be going to the gardens. Zuko used to do his sun meditations there, and he had his turtleducks, which he doted on. This training yard, however… Iroh remembered training there himself when he was a different man. It had been a long time since he'd set foot in that part of the palace, and he wasn't fond of the memories it dredged up.

"I do not read his majesty's personal letters. For that, you would have to speak with Mistress Yina."

Iroh nodded. Mistress Yina was the Head of Household Staff. She was also Zuko's Mistress of Secrets, and widely referred to as the Iron Maiden, despite the fact that she wasn't one. She, along with Hau, had taken care of the children after that final battle, making sure they were fed and bathed when they were too numb to do it themselves. She and Hau were Zuko's greatest allies among the ruling class, and Iroh was glad that his nephew was in such loyal, capable hands.

"It would not do to withhold important information from you," Hau said in response to Iroh's questioning glance. "We do not make a habit of reading his personal correspondence, but when he returned, we knew that he was not himself. We ask for your help because we cannot reach him. Please, Lord Iroh, steel yourself."

Hau opened the door and Iroh's heart sank to the pit of his stomach. The training yard had a stone floor, but beyond that floor was nice, rich vegetation. Was. Because there was nothing there now, save burned stalks of trees and a charred, brown mess of what used to be grass. The trees had once provided a bit of shade from the sun, but now there was nothing to stop it from baking the stones. It was not, however, the sun's rays that had scorched and cracked the entire stone floor. Iroh took a few shaky steps out into the yard, tears stinging at his eyes as rock crumbled beneath his feet. This was like a physical embodiment of his nephew's pain. A section of the wall had caved in, tiny veins of black streaking away from the gaping hole. Iroh's stomach churned. It reminded him too much of the devastation that he'd once caused a small Earth Kingdom town. Back long before Zuko was born, before his siege of Ba Sing Se, before he'd lost Lu Ten. It reminded him of the day his wife had died, how he, Ozai and their father had set that poor town on fire.

Iroh took a shaky breath. He should have returned with Zuko. He shouldn't have left him alone. Whatever had passed between him and Katara had been more serious than he realized.

"He practices frequently," Hau was saying behind him. "I have… I have never seen bending like that, and quite honestly, I had never expected such raw power from him. I am ashamed to say I hadn't considered that a seventeen year old boy could be a master bender."

There was awe in the man's voice, but it did little to soothe Iroh's broken heart.

"He has also been working with lightning, Lord Iroh, and his control is impeccable. There is such strength in his movements, and those times when he practices at night… Several times, the staff has said they thought it was going to storm, the flashes were so bright. He is struggling to control some storm inside himself, and here, he unleashes what he can."

When Hau turned, Iroh couldn't quite bring himself to follow. This was not the pain of a lost friendship, however close they might have been. Not for the first time, Iroh wondered if perhaps there had been something more, something stronger between the two of them. He'd thought he'd seen something, some spark, in the way Katara had cared for Zuko after that final battle. Like everyone else, though, he'd convinced himself that it was the pain of losing one so dear.

"Lord Zuko should be out of his meeting now if you would like to speak with him."

Iroh followed slightly behind Hau, lost in thoughts of a lifetime ago, mourning all the way his family's pain was being revisited on his nephew. He'd hoped to shield Zuko from the worst of it, but it appeared that this dark legacy was going to continue. Sozin had cursed the Fire Lords with a life of unhappiness.

"Unacceptable," Zuko barked, towering over a woman two and a half times his age. "It will be done, and it will be done now. If you can't manage to make such a simple thing happen, then I will find someone who will, and believe me, there is no shortage of people clamoring for your position."

Iroh stopped short, unsure if he was looking at his nephew or his brother. He cursed himself for that comparison, but he'd seen that scowl before, and presented with Zuko's unscarred side and hearing that borderline threatening tone, it had popped unbidden into his mind.

"My lord, we just don't have the money…"

Iroh watched Zuko study the papers in his hands, his face scrunched in concentration. He turned a sharp, penetrating gaze on the councilwoman who took a few steps away from him.

"You will have your proposal complete with an itemized list of expected expenses on my desk—_on my desk_, not on its way, not nearly completed—no later than noon tomorrow. You will have your funding in the next two weeks."

The woman practically growled, baring her teeth at Zuko as she took the paper with a strained 'yes, my lord.' Iroh watched his nephew speak with his council members, studied the set of his shoulders, the way his fists were clenched when he wasn't holding anything. With some people, Zuko was aggressive, looming over them and making them cower. With others he was only marginally more relaxed. His tone was clipped, his words commanding. Even when he asked a question, he was still domination personified. He was a general, a force not to be trifled with. He was a leader. They all did what he said. When he was done, and his council members dismissed, Zuko turned to him and smiled, but the smile was strained and it didn't reach his eyes.

"Uncle," Zuko said, much softer. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

So Zuko had noticed him standing there, and had still spoken to people in such a harsh manner.

"It is good to see you, Zuko."

"But you're not happy with what you've seen. I know."

When Iroh hugged his nephew, Zuko was a rigid as steel. And slim. He poked at Zuko's side, prodded through the fabric. Iroh frowned, but Zuko only rolled his eyes and motioned for them to walk down the hall. He accepted a few papers from Hau, reading them as he walked.

"Nephew—"

"We're going to have lunch now, uncle," he said, his voice still firm, though a little less commanding. "Minister Hau, if you could have something sent to my office."

In his office, much to Iroh's dismay, the first thing Zuko did was walk around and make more notes. Servants came in with an extra table and began setting out their lunch, and Mistress Yina entered with them, more papers in her hand. Zuko didn't even move from where he stood, simply holding out his hand.

Iroh waited for Zuko to sit down. Even after he dismissed Yina, Zuko didn't sit or eat. Instead he paced, idly igniting and extinguishing a flame in his hand. Four circuits Zuko made, his stride strong and even. On the sixth circuit, Iroh sighed, realizing his nephew would not be eating right then, so he helped himself. On the tenth circuit, Zuko started making shapes with his fire, and Iroh and helped himself to more tea, studying the shapes his nephew bent.

"Minister Hau tells me that you have been incredibly productive."

"It hasn't been easy. My council has pushed against me, but they are quickly learning that if they want me to play their games, there is no way that they will emerge victorious."

In quick succession, Zuko made a dragon, a turtleduck, and a vaguely human shape Iroh couldn't quite make out, Zuko's hand snapping closed over the shape almost as soon as it was formed. Zuko continued his circuit, frowning and rubbing his scar.

"It looks like I've found more money," Zuko said, almost to himself as he extinguished the fire lily he'd bent. He made a few notes on one of his schedules.

"Have you found more food as well, nephew?"

"Yes, we're working on establishing more farms. Excess food from the palace is being sold in the markets in the poorer districts. I need all of my people strong for the hard work ahead of us."

"Then you won't have to starve yourself so that others may eat. Sit, nephew—"

Zuko whipped around, anger flashing fiercely behind golden eyes. "You do not—"

The storm passed quickly, and Iroh frowned even as his nephew breathed deeply and released a fire laden breath. Iroh knew the throne would change him. It had to change him. Some part of him even expected Zuko to become harsher, maybe a little angrier. But he hadn't been prepared for this. In his mind, he could see again that burned, destroyed courtyard. He could imagine Zuko summoning lightning and shooting it into that crumbled section of wall. Zuko tried to smile, then, and it looked so foreign on his face, like his nephew had forgotten how to smile. Again, he rubbed at his scar.

"Of course, uncle."

Iroh could see a flicker of the boy he'd been before whatever happened between him and Katara, and Iroh thought that maybe it wasn't so much what happened between them as everything that happened after. Maybe Zuko hadn't been ready to take the throne. Maybe it would have been better if Iroh controlled things for a few years while Zuko learned the ropes. He watched as Zuko lifted the empty teapot and frowned. Then Iroh's eyes widened dropped in shock as Zuko reached into a drawer and pulled out several neatly labeled tins, inspecting each until he found the one he wanted. A delicate jasmine tea from the northern Earth Kingdom by the smell of it. With measured movements that said he had done this a hundred times before, Zuko measured out the dried leaves and placed them into the pot.

"I will not pretend that being Fire Lord is easy," Zuko said slowly, deliberately as he lit a fire. "My job, my position will never be easy. It is, however, what must be done."

"Nephew…" There were tears in Iroh's eyes again, a joyous, painful swelling in his heart.

"Because of who we were during the war, I have come to realize that our lives will not truly be our own. Ever. We gave up our childhoods, and chances are, we will give up our adulthoods as well."

Iroh didn't want to hope, but when Zuko looked at him then, he didn't see his brother, but _himself_ reflected in his nephew's eyes. It was the darkness that he'd fought and conquered after Ba Sing Se and it was the light and justness that he cultivated in himself now. It was like stitching together two completely opposite halves. Iroh hadn't dared to hope that Zuko had listened all those years.

"I am sorry for speaking to you the way that I did. It was wrong of me. You are not under my command. You once told me that bamboo is rigid when it must be, and yet also bends when it must so that it isn't broken by a strong wind."

Zuko removed the tea from the fire and poured off a very precise amount into a small cup before pouring tea for Iroh first, then for himself.

"Nephew…"

"Please don't make a bigger deal out of this than it is, uncle."

"Oh, nephew."

How could he not make a big deal out of it? The tea was delicious. 

* * *

A/N: It's getting less angsty, I promise. This is just a year and a half after the war, and I don't think the Fire Nation would be able to handle someone coming in and "playing nice" with them just yet. They'd need a strong, firm leader, someone who's a mix of Ozai's harshness (which they're used to) and Iroh's gentle leading. Initially, I can see Zuko trying to be nicer and wanting to work with them as equals and not getting anywhere. So when he comes back from his argument with Katara, he's in the right headspace to pull out some of that anger that would make them do what he says. I also see him keeping quiet about the source of his anger; he'd see it as his burden to bear, but if he told people why he was angry, it would lead to questions, and it would out them. By far, though, my favorite moment was that little Toph/Zuko bit in the middle where he tells her to play the game. That sent shockwaves through my brain and set off a firestorm of ideas and possible scenarios. Because there's definitely a game that they'd definitely need to play it a bit, and quite honestly, I think Toph has the furthest to go if she's going to wind up as Chief of Police. That's what Zuko's been doing, even if he's keeping it from those closest to him. He's playing the game, and he gets results. And finally, when Iroh shows up, he's worked off enough of his initial anger that he's ready to loosen up and let someone in. Partially. Hopefully the little bit at the end with the tea is enough cuteness to someone make up for the angst I've put you through.


	4. Chapter 4

Katara lazily stirred the water in the sink, the dishes having long ago been cleaned. She was exhausted, but couldn't manage to get any sleep. With the war over and some of their own structures restored, the North had practically sent an army of benders and warriors to help their sister tribe. Her father had welcomed them with open arms and a grateful smile, but four months in, they were really starting to get on her nerves.

Sighing, Katara sat down at the kitchen table, stretching her legs out in front of her. Along with the Northern tribesmen and women had come their stupid oppressive ideals. Pakku willingly worked with her, but many of the others didn't quite seem to share his enthusiasm for readjusting their sexist views. So far, no one but her seemed intent on changing that right away.

"It's only for a few months, Katara," she grumbled, mimicking what Pakku constantly told her.

Every day, she kept her mouth shut, but the anger built, and she could feel it reaching a peak in the last few days as some of the older girls wanted to learn to fight. They'd readily accepted their training in healing, eager to know how to care for their families. As they watched the warriors with their spears and daggers, the Southern girls felt another desire rising within them. They'd been there for the raids just as Katara had; they'd seen their families devastated and had wanted to be able to protect them. Then Katara had returned to them, a master bender, showing them that such power was within their reach.

Those Northern fools were adamant in their denial.

"Hey Katara," Sokka said, coming to sit next to her at the table.

"Hey Sokka," she said tiredly, dropping her head to the table. "Shouldn't you be going to bed? You've got to be up early."

Really, she wanted Sokka to go to bed because the night belonged to her. It was the one time that she allowed herself to drop the mask, to mourn all the things that she lost. Sokka had other ideas, though, trying to start late night conversations with her more frequently in the past weeks, perhaps noticing that she was getting angrier during the day. Maybe if he left her to her thoughts at night she wouldn't be wound so tightly.

"You have to get up early, too. Besides, I was hoping we could talk for a bit."

Sighing, Katara dipped her shoulder to get out of her brother's touch. She knew what he wanted to talk about, and that was the exact thing that she did not want to talk about. She didn't want to talk about firebenders and best friends. She didn't want to talk about the way he'd dodged her touch after nearly shooting Jet with lightning, or that he'd been so frustrated, and hadn't even confided in her. She didn't want to admit that him being Fire Lord meant they wouldn't be able to share secrets like they used to. She didn't want to admit that she was barely holding it together.

"I know you mean well, Sokka—"

"No, Katara, it's not that. I mean… I did mean well. But I messed up."

She silently pleaded with him, begged him not to say that name.

"You haven't been the same since we've come back."

"It's just that… that happened, and then the North showed up, and we've been under a lot of stress."

Katara looked at her brother, and sighed. It felt like only months ago they'd been children watching their father sailing off to war, not knowing if he'd ever come back. So much had changed them since then. People looked up to them, sought them out to thank them and congratulate them. It felt that, overnight, they'd become heroes and protectors.

"Do you ever feel like you don't deserve their praise?" she whispered.

"Almost every day. And sometimes, I just want to yell at them that we had to do it because they weren't. Even if I know that's not fair." Sokka sighed heavily. "We just happened to be the ones to find Aang."

This time when Sokka put his arm on her shoulder, Katara didn't shrug away from him.

"You're a good brother, Sokka."

He winced, regret clear on his face. "Even after what I did? Even after I hurt both you and Z—"

"Please, Sokka, don't. Don't say his name."

But it was too late; the tears were already there, the pain blossoming in her heart. Katara put her hand on her chest, imagining that she could push the pain back inside her. Sokka was quick to grab her and hold her, and she sobbed bitterly against his shoulder, and he whispered how sorry he was over and over again, how he should have minded his own business.

"It's so much more than that, Sokka," she said between choked sobs.

By chance, they had found Aang, and they'd travelled with him, helping him master the elements, helping him defeat Ozai. They'd given up their childhood, and now, helping rebuild her nation, hearing people praise her and ask her opinion, Katara was just beginning to realize that the world would always be demanding something of them. Because of whom they'd been when they were still so young, the world would always lay claim to them.

And if her duty was to the world, it could never be to herself. There would never be a future where it was ok for her to love.

* * *

The sun had barely risen, and already the South was alive with activity. She'd sat in on two healing classes as the girls were taught everything from sewing up wounds to which plants were poison. They listened intently, those from both the North and the South, though Katara had been acutely aware of them eyeing her water skins the whole time. When those young, determined blue eyes looked up at her with awe and admiration, how could she deny them? They looked so much like she had, only there was less fear in their eyes.

"Remember, ladies, the importance of a good fire," the Northern healer, Chena, was saying. "A fire will sustain you through the night, should you be caught outside with no shelter. Though no young woman should ever be caught alone outside."

Katara physically bit her tongue, focused her mind on creating an ice spike, pulling it out of the ground, then pounding it back down with her fist. Chena raised an eyebrow, but Katara ignored her.

"Are there any questions, ladies?" Chena.

One young girl, Ana, raised her hand, but Chena scowled.

"Please, Ana, we're learning about _healing_. There are enough warriors."

The fire in front of Chena sputtered in a slight breeze, and a little more of the fire in Ana's eyes died. Katara swallowed thickly. Ana turned her head away, mumbling 'never mind' as she stirred the snow in front of her with a finger. This wasn't right. It wasn't fair. There was no reason for the North to deny their women the same strength and power they gave their men. That was the very reason her grandmother had traveled across the world, during a war, no less. It was one of the things that fundamentally separated the South from its sister tribe. It was the thing that allowed her to experience everything that she had. Katara breathed sharply, in and out, reaching out with her bending, feeling the water, feeling that power surge through her. She remembered the way this feeling had eluded her for so long, and how _complete_ she'd let when she had control of her bending.

Katara fought against the tears, remembering that moment when she'd stood in front of Yon Rha, finally able to admit to herself that she was not some weak, pathetic, helpless little girl. The moment when she'd held her arms out and commanded the rain. It had been _empowering_. She had felt alive. It wasn't when she'd finally got Pakku to teach her that she'd truly felt powerful. It wasn't when she fought alongside the warriors during the Day of Black Sun. It was that moment when she stood up against her nightmares and confronted them.

She'd had someone to fight for her, though, someone to argue that it was her choice to make, to spare Yon Rha's life or to take it. She'd had someone who understood the weight of that specter and the pain of helplessness. These girls didn't have that, and it was clear that they desperately needed someone who would argue for them. Someone who would fight for them.

"No more…"

Everyone turned to look at her, giving her questioning looks. Katara looked at each of those girls in turn, saw herself in them, and knew that this could not be. This would not be. It was _not_ what she'd fought for.

Clenching her fist, Katara drew her ice spike from the ground, and with a grunt, punched it down hard enough for the ground beneath them to tremble.

"Master Katara…"

"I have had _enough_," she said, glaring at Chena. "This ends here. It ends now. It ends today."

There was so much swirling inside of her, so much pain, so much regret, so much anger. Practically ripping the buttons off of her coat, Katara shrugged it off and forcefully tossed it to the ground. The girls watched her. The youngest was six-year-old Aluki from the South, the oldest seventeen year old Puja from the North, a waterbender denied the full strength of her craft. Puja was older than Katara, but she still had that same look of powerlessness, and it just wasn't right.

"If you want to learn to fight and to hunt, to defend yourself and your tribe, follow me," Katara told the shocked girls.

"Master Katara, that is not how we do things!"

"In the North, maybe, but you will not come down here and stunt our women. _We_ are warriors."

Something primal inside her stirred, and she gave in to it, throwing aside the tent flaps and stepping out into the bright light of the day. If they wanted her to be a hero and a leader, then she would do it, but it would be on her own terms. Katara popped the caps off her water skins, all four of them, and filled them until they strained against the seams. She marched past the benders creating structures from snow, their movements taunting the girls that she knew trailed behind her.

"No more," she growled, clenching her fists.

People were turning to watch her procession, stopping in their work, and as they neared the docks, she could hear Sokka calling her, first with excitement, then apprehension. An ocean of people in blue parted in front of her, and there, practicing with his stupid male waterbenders, was the other Northern master.

"Naneq!"

The waterbending master stopped, sending his water back to the ground, and his students formed a line off to his right. Katara would take every one of them if it meant saving these girls. Naneq strode forward, his gait cocky. Every time Katara had tried to approach this subject civilly, Naneq was always the first one to talk her down. Then Pakku would chime in, with his bit about it just being a little while longer, and Hakoda would tell her that they needed this help, that they could tackle this later. Only her Gran Gran seemed to understand.

"Master Katara," Naneq said, his arms crossed and a cocky smile on her face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Can it," she barked. "I have new students for you, and I will fight you for their right to learn, just as I fought Pakku."

"Please not this again," he said, rolling his eyes. "We have had this conversation, many times before."

Naneq waved his hand at her dismissively, turning to walk back to his students. Katara needed these girls to see that they could command respect, that they deserved it.

"It would appear we need to have this conversation again," she growled at him.

"Katara, wait!"

Sokka was running up next to her, shaking her shoulder.

"What are you doing? What's gotten into you?"

When she turned to her brother, her eyes narrowed, he took a few steps back. "All through the war, I fought to help people, Sokka. That's who I am. There are still people who need me."

"I'm sure there's another way…"

Sokka looked at her, pleaded for her to back down, but it was too late. She'd crossed the threshold.

"Listen to your brother. Do not—"

Naneq's words were cut off as she made her attack. She ripped the water from the ground, forming it into a giant ice dagger, yelling as she sent it hurtling toward him. Naneq sent up a hasty shield, surprised by the force of her attack as her dagger pushed through, stopping inches from his face. She did not relent. Naneq was on the defensive, and she kept him that way, twisting and bringing a wave of water crashing into the older man from his left, and as his second hasty shield was shattered, pushing him to the right, she pulled up a column of ice. Naneq crashed into it.

"I know the frustration on their faces," Katara called, resetting her stance. "I know the anger in their hearts."

She dashed forward, but this time Naneq was ready for her. The ground rumbled beneath her, and as she moved, tendrils of water tried to stab at her feet. She dodged them the best she could, barely wincing as one jabbed at her ankle, and when she was closer, she bent a hammer of ice, slamming it down on Naneq's head. Eyes wide, Naneq liquefied the ground beneath him, and Katara refroze it, closing her hand into a fist and making the ice tighten around the master's body.

"Impressive," Naneq chuckled. He shattered the ice and climbed out of the hole. "Though you did study under Pakku, even if you had to manipulate him to get him to do it."

Her eye twitched. "Manipulate?"

"Do you think Pakku would have trained you if it hadn't been for your grandmother's necklace?"

Katara could hold it in no more. With a powerful stomp, the ground shattered underneath Naneq, and she swung her arms, Foggy Swamp style, coaxing the ice to shoot into the air, keeping Naneq on his toes as he dodged shooting columns of ice. When he fell over, she split the ground, then clapped her hands, encasing the master in ice. His students might have thought their master was in trouble, but Katara knew better. There were spectators, now, both Northern and Southern, and Katara would give them a real show. Spinning, she sent a wave crashing into Naneq's students, and as she drew the water back to her she saw Naneq himself, rushing toward her, surfing on the ice, slapping it down in front of him and as he neared, he sent ice spikes toward her head. Yelling, Katara gloved her forearm in ice and collected those spikes. She shoved her hands into his ice, struggling to turn it into water again.

With her hands firmly in the water that Naneq bent, she could feel his will, could feel him fighting against her, but she was so _done_.

"I am the master you would have denied!"

She forced everything she had into the water, felt the very moment her will overtook his and ripped the water out from under him. Naneq went crashing to the ground, landing hard on his shoulder, everyone gasping in shock. Katara spun the water around herself, feeling her element envelop her, feeling her strength.

"I am the tempest!"

She raised herself inside her globe of water, towering over Naneq. She focused on his prone form, punching out ice missiles, forcing Naneq to roll out of the way. She waited for him to hastily get to his feet, then smacked him with water whip after water whip.

"I am the raging storm!"

She moved then, Foggy Swamp style, her globe thundering down toward Naneq, and the man barely moved in time as she crashed into the ground, letting the water absorb the brunt of the fall, and Naneq turned, sending missile after missile toward her, but Katara only slapped them out of the air.

"I am the water."

Katara was standing right in front of Naneq, chest heaving, barely aware that she was crying. She stared right into his angry blue eyes and dared him to challenge her again, dared him to call her a little girl or to say that women were unable to fight. She had one last trick up her sleeve, and right then, she knew she wouldn't hesitate to use it, to make him cower and beg the way he made those girls cower and beg.

"I am a warrior," she growled at him. "Those girls have every potential to be warriors, just like their brothers and their fathers. Do not be a fool and leave them powerless."

She didn't dare to turn away from him just yet, waiting for the defiance she knew would come. Naneq grit his teeth as he stared at her, looked like he was going to form words, and Katara readied herself. At the slightest word from him, she was ready… To what? Rubbing at her eyes, Katara breathed deeply, forcing out air and frustration. With great effort, she turned her back and walked toward the group of girls. The more she wiped at her tears, the more she cried, and when she reached the girls, she saw that her father and grandmother were there as well, standing next to Sokka, and she collapsed into her father's arms, and he held her and rubbed her back as she cried. The damn had burst inside of her, and when her legs gave out, the girls came to her, supported her, and she loved them. She loved them because they were her as she had been, and they had the potential to be her as she never could be. Eight year old Ana looked at her, her eyes bright, her fire rekindled.

Carefully, gingerly, Ana moved her hand up and down in a motion Katara knew too well. She felt the tears being pulled away from her face, and soon Ana had a tiny globe of them. She scrunched her face in concentration and handed the globe to Katara.

"Even if he won't teach us," she said. "Thank you, Master Katara."

"And I _still_ won't teach them," Naneq said, holding his arm. "If you want the Southern daughters to learn, then you teach them, since you're such a master."

Ana's face crumbled, even though she tried to keep on a brave face, and Katara whipped around, reaching for a different element, relishing the surprise and fear in Naneq's eyes as his body went rigid. She ignored Sokka telling her that she'd made a promise, that it wasn't right what she was doing. She didn't hold him for long, just long enough for him to realize that she, a fifteen year old girl, would _always_ outclass him.

"This is about so much more than that," Katara said, pushing against fatigue to stand tall. "This is about helping your tribe grow stronger. This is about acknowledging the strength that your women have. This is about the sacrifice that I make every day so that this world can have peace."

She doubted anything would change Naneq's mind. He would not teach these girls, and she didn't want him to. This was who the South needed her to be; she needed to be their strength, the one to push them to be better.

"The Avatar has already given us peace," Naneq said. "The war is over. You have played your part, and you played it bravely Katara."

"Please, Naneq," Hakoda said, stepping forward. "When you go back to the North, you can hold to your own customs. Would it hurt you, for just the little while that you are here, to teach our daughters?"

"And what would that prove?"

"It would prove that your tribe is a unit," Katara said, punching and sending an ice ball right into Naneq's stomach. "In the South, our women held our tribe together while the men were away at war. We hunted, we fought, we led. We survived."

"The North has survived just fine, if you hadn't noticed."

"What you do isn't surviving. There is no balance. You will not grow. You will not be better."

She turned her back on Naneq and knelt before Ana, and the young girl threw her arms around Katara. Then the other girls piled on, and for one brief moment, Katara felt that hole inside her disappear.

"Whenever I am here, whenever you are here, I will teach you."

She couldn't let them feel the hurt that she did.

* * *

A/N: This chapter, more than anything I've ever written, I think, completely got away from me. It all sparked from the line _I am the master you would have denied_. That turned it into a Katara empowerment chapter. I think the North would try to impose their will on the South now (rather than in Korra's time because, what the hell, the South is already re-established, dudes). Of course, this would chafe on Katara, and because she's loud, bossy and impulsive, she'd be constantly speaking out about this. Pakku would know that the North isn't going to change their minds anytime soon, and Hakoda would get this, too, both telling her that once the North is gone, they can go about their business. I don't think Katara would be down for this, especially as she sees the young girls looking at her and wondering why they can't be fighters just like her. It doesn't matter that the fighting is technically done; it's still soon after the war and they're still scared. Knowing they can defend themselves means that they don't have to be afraid anymore. And Katara's been there, she's been afraid, and I think it's very natural for her to give in to her rage and become their protector. It also became important to me that Katara's moment of "finding herself/her place in the South" to be something to come from _her_. I didn't want her pining away for lost love, though those emotions definitely do play into it. It's also quite a bit about banishing her demons. Overall, I'm quite happy with the way this turned out.


	5. Chapter 5

Iroh thought he'd gotten lucky quite honestly. Katara had been in the Earth Kingdom when she'd received his letter, and she'd agreed to come visit him and help him with a small project. Initially, he'd struggled to come up with a good excuse, knowing she would immediately assume that he wanted her to speak with Zuko and patch up their relationship. Which, of course, he did. The two of them were very stubborn, however, and if you tried to push them into it, they would likely argue just because it was the opposite of what you wanted them to do.

"I wish you would have elaborated on this project of yours," she said softly, looking down the hallways and twisting the fabric of her dress. "I doubt it's got much to do with the Jasmine Dragon at all."

"You wound me," Iroh said, placing his hand over his heart. "I value your opinion, dearest Katara."

She smiled at him, a broad, humoring smile. One that said she was aware of his games. Iroh chuckled.

"Tell me, how are things going in the South?"

Katara's smile faded, replaced with a look of anger. "They're all fools," she said. "I don't know that they'll be coming back to help us anytime soon, but there were those who stayed."

"Oh?"

"They were refusing to train the girls in more than healing still, and I couldn't just sit back and do nothing. It was too painful to watch them be denied and see the fire in them die. I mean, not too long ago that was me."

Katara stopped, and Iroh stopped with her. She'd done some growing of her own, it seemed.

"I showed them what it truly means to be a master bender. I don't know that it will ever do any good to keep challenging the North on their stupidity, but they will not come into my home and belittle our women. Those girls needed me, and I will never turn my back on people who need my help."

She had grown indeed. Iroh patted her arm, smiling warmly at her.

"They are lucky to have you as their teacher and protector. I am sure they will make you proud."

Katara's face softened, and she was about to respond when a familiar voice drifted toward them, and Iroh's heart dropped. This was not how he wanted them to meet again.

"And I suppose you thought I wouldn't notice?" Zuko asked harshly. "That I would just overlook everything you've done?"

"This was not done at my command, you cannot blame me for their actions!"

Zuko stopped abruptly, and the man clenched his fists, nostrils flared.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? That I can't see what's happening in front of me?"

The man started at his sovereign's tone, hands held up as he moved backwards.

"You will be punished for this. You will be stripped of your rank and your title. Your lands will be forfeit, your fortune will be forfeit. Everything you own is now mine."

"My family—"

"Maybe you should have thought about your family before any of this started, hm? Now get out of my sight."

The man huffed, fear and anger mixing, for a moment considering standing up to his Fire Lord. Iroh closed his eyes and turned his head slightly to the side. He knew what Zuko would do, had found out that most of this was posturing. Katara didn't know. Iroh would try to explain, but she wouldn't listen. All she would see would be her friend intimidating this man.

"Was my command not clear enough to you, _citizen_?"

Zuko took a step forward, met the man eye to eye, nose to nose, chest to chest. Neither backed down for several tense seconds, and the air around them became noticeably warmer as Zuko breathed steam from his nose and _finally_, the newly made private citizen took a few steps back and bowed before turning on his heel and marching away. Then the moment that Iroh dreaded happened. Zuko turned and saw them. His face remained blank, and he hesitated only a moment, before also turning and heading down a different hallway.

Things went exactly as Iroh expected. He turned to Katara to explain, but barely got out a syllable before she made some excuse and hurried off in a different direction.

* * *

In his office, Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose as he read through the scroll one more time. Azulon had been great at what he did. No one would sign a treaty like this without being forced to do so. He made a few notes in the ledger, re rolled the scroll, and set it back on the pile. He rolled his eyes, grip tightening on another scroll as a knock on the door interrupted him.

"I have a meeting in ten minutes," he called. "Unless your name is Minister Hau, do _not_ disturb me."

It was quiet, and he assumed the person had gone away and began making notes again.

"Zuko?"

His blood froze, and he swore his heart stopped. Or started beating so fast that there wasn't any difference. He knew his uncle was behind this, and like Sokka, he would have the best intentions, but the last time someone tried to meddle, things had gone horribly wrong. He wasn't ready to go through that again, certainly not after Katara had seen him deal with that insolent captain. But it wasn't like he could just let her stand out there. Slowly, he stood and went to the door. His hand was shaking has he opened it.

Blue eyes looked up at him, her mouth slightly opened. His heart jolted as she blushed slightly. Hastily, he moved to the side.

"Please, come in."

When she was inside, he turned his back and closed the door. What was _wrong_ with him? They'd had that fight. She said there was no them, that they couldn't be together. Why was his heart betraying him? He knew better. He needed to stop trying to court disaster, especially now that he was finally getting a handle on things in the Fire Nation. He'd finally calmed the hurt and the pain inside of him, and now here she was, and his stupid, stupid heart was beating double time at the mere _sight_ of her.

"It's good to see you again, Katara." He didn't trust himself to smile at her.

"It's good to see you, too. If… If it's not a good time…"

She looked him up and down, studied him, and he tried and failed not to study her. He tried and failed not to notice the way the pretty blue dress fit her wonderfully and how it matched her eyes. He tried not to notice the way her hair was falling out of its loose bun, nicely framing her face. He shoved a hand in his pocket to keep from tucking a few stray strands behind her ear as she smoothed her dress, blue eyes peeking up at him through long lashes.

"I don't have a meeting." He gestured at his desk. "Just work."

Great Agni, what was wrong with him? She'd raged at him, had said he should stop being foolish and face the facts. She had rejected him in the most painful way.

"I um… Earlier today," he said sheepishly, rubbing his scar. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Her eyes zeroed in on his hand and the place it was rubbing, and he blushed. He turned his back and walked toward the windowed doors that opened onto the balcony. He tried to get his emotions under control, but he'd seen the admission in her eyes four months ago. It was the reason Toph wasn't mad at Katara for turning him into a weepy, broody mess. She'd hurt herself just as much.

"Captain Toshi took a few ships and attacked a factory that his family used to own on one of the colonies," Zuko explained. "I took the factory away from them a few months ago because of theft and mismanagement. I'm a little surprised that they're only now doing something about it."

He rubbed his scar and waited, but no reply came.

"Does it hurt you? Still?"

"It aches," he said. What a loaded question. "Sometimes."

When he turned around, she moved toward him, stopping an arm's length away, pleading and longing in her eyes. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, and Zuko really, really tried to keep his mind on chaste, appropriate thoughts, because being so close to her again, it was like his mind just ignored everything that happened between them. He swallowed, attempting to take a step back, but he was already against the glass doors. There wasn't anywhere else he could go. He didn't know what to do with his hands. He felt self conscious and awkward.

"You feel it, too, Zuko, I know you do. It's not fair. I want to be selfish. I can't do this."

Everything was just too hot, the room was too small. He pleaded with the spirits to keep her from crying, because if she did, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

"We made a promise, Katara," he said, eyes closed. "You were right. We don't get to be selfish."

"And why not? Toshi is selfish. The North is selfish. Everyone around us is just trying to take as much as they can. Who says we can't do the same?"

She was breathless and panting, and Zuko would not, would not, _would not_ think about other times she'd been breathless and panting. Against his better judgment, he opened his eyes slowly and looked at her and saw the need, the want, the desire written all over her face.

"If we do this, there's no going back," he whispered. "I can't take this step, then go back to what we were."

"I know."

"We could ruin everything."

"Believe me, I know," she whispered.

"No one can know about this. It has to stay between us."

She swallowed and nodded, twisting the fabric of her dress. He almost lost it when she licked her lips. It was taking everything he had in him to not touch her. They needed to understand just what they were getting themselves into. The smart thing to do would be to remain friends, to keep their distance, and to do what they'd originally said they'd do. Yet the air was practically alive with the tension.

"We did it once before," she said. "Think of how happy it made us. We deserve to be happy."

"We just… We'll just have to change the rules."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked. "If it goes wrong, things will be worse for you than the will be for me."

Hesitantly, Zuko stepped forward and took her hands in his. They were both shaking, and he took a deep breath as she stepped even closer to him. Still, he needed for her to understand this one thing above all others.

"No, Katara, it will not be worse for me. This kind of thing will be expected of me. They will pat me on the back and make rude jokes. But this will ruin your reputation. The North with their strict morals will look down on you, the Earth Kingdom will not trust you, believing that your ties to me are stronger than they are to equality and the world. The South may be the most forgiving, but… I can guarantee you that some there will still be upset with you."

Slowly, taking a chance, he let go of her hands, his heart pounding as he cupped her cheeks. He gently ran his thumb over her lips. He opened his mouth to speak, but she kissed his thumb, and coherent thought left him.

"I didn't save your life to lose you, now," she whispered. "The North already hates me for beating another of their masters in front of both of our tribes. I am a Southern woman. We play by different rules."

When had they gotten so close? Her hand grazed his waist, and he couldn't hold it back anymore, replacing his thumb with his mouth, and he kissed her and it felt _fantastic_. His arms trembled as he wrapped them around her waist, and when she deepened the kiss, tangling her fingers in his hair, he couldn't help that satisfied moan. Then things shifted again, and they were stumbling backwards, bumping into his desk, and they were groping each other, and holy hell, were they starting already? Without thinking, books were swept off his desk and he grabbed her and sat her on top and she was tugging his shirt out of his pants and her bare hands were on him and it was _bliss_.

Then a pain like hot lightning shot through his stomach, and his knees buckled, and he'd ruined their nice moment by somehow injuring himself.

"Zuko! Oh spirits, Zuko!"

He ground his teeth against the pain as his vision swam. Katara was pushing against him, and he was vaguely aware of a commotion at the door. When he couldn't hold himself up anymore, he collapsed, and Katara rolled him over. Gingerly, she opened his shirt and then her healing water was on him. His vision cleared as he gasped for air, and he could see terrified faces surrounding him.

What a fool he was. 

* * *

A/N: Sooo, a little happiness, and a renegotiation of their relationship, because they can't quite be what they were to each other on Ember Island. Zuko has things he can't share anymore, and this adds a whole new level to sneaking around and secrets. I think the Gaang will be what passes for celebrities in the Avatar world, and their lives will be scrutinized like nobody's business, and as sad as it is, I think they'd really have a hard time finding true happiness. So, whatever bit they can steal, you know?


	6. Chapter 6

This felt entirely too much like waiting for Zuko to awaken after she'd healed him after he redirected the lightning, and Katara stifled a sob, not wanting to wake him. He needed to rest. He was just sleeping. She would yell at him until she was hoarse later.

"Katara?"

She turned around. Iroh and Minister Hau were at the door. Reluctantly, she left Zuko's bedside and went to stand next to them. She didn't know how much Zuko told them about his injuries, how severe they'd been and the lasting effects, and she was hesitant to say anything without his permission. She ran her hands through her hair, feeling frazzled.

"He's fine," she said, starting off with the most important part. "He just tore a muscle. I should have stayed later to make sure everything had healed properly before leaving. Has he been resting? What have the palace healers said? He's been putting a lot of stress on weak muscles."

The older men coughed and pointedly avoided her gaze, and she narrowed her eyes at them. Hau had been there right at the end, had stopped soldiers from continuing to attack them while she and Aang tried to revive Zuko. He knew the extent of Zuko's injuries. Did they really think she was _that_ good of a healer? She'd done everything she could, but healing him so quickly, so completely would have put even more stress on a weakened body. Did they think it was possible able to withstand that kind of punishment and just be ok?

"I will take some blame, Master Katara," Hau said, bowing. "Lord Zuko keeps a very busy schedule, and he hasn't been to the palace healers much. He has, however, been rubbing his scar quite frequently, but since he's never mentioned any pain, I assumed that it had become an unconscious habit."

"Maybe it was a little of both," Iroh offered. "But why now? I wonder what happened to injure him."

"I don't know," Katara said, turning away from Iroh and Hau as she tugged her hair, desperate to hide her blush. She sifted through the medicines on a nearby table. "It could have been carrying around all of those books and scrolls."

"Lord Zuko has been training rather vigorously lately," Hau suggested. "I can show you the training yard—"

"That… That won't be necessary," Zuko called from the bed. "I'm awake. I'm fine."

Katara closed her eyes as her heart skipped a beat. She turned to him, slowly, not sure what to expect, but beautiful golden eyes were watching her. Zuko smiled his stupid little crooked half smile.

"I'm sorry I worried you," he said, looking directly at her.

She hadn't realized she'd been so tense until she let out a trembling breath and felt that stabbing pain deep in her core. Zuko was always trying to be the hero, and she truly loved him for that, but this wasn't the kind of thing he could just keep quiet about. She'd come all this way for him. She'd had a speech planned, and it may have been abandoned the moment he opened his office door and looked at her, but she'd had one. He was lucky this was just a ripped muscle. It could have been so much worse.

"Hear this, Zuko," Katara yelled, hands flying to her hips to keep them from shaking. "If you ever, _ever_ pull another stunt like this again, I swear to you I will come from the ends of the earth and end your goddamn life!"

Zuko recoiled. "I promise I didn't do this on purpose, it's just that—"

"What's this business about the training yard? How many hours a day are you out there? What's wrong with you? What did you _think_ would happen, Zuko? Did you not realize just how injured you were after…" She huffed and waved her arms, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "You can't just go on as if nothing happened. We need you. Tui and La, spirits above, Zuko, you will be the death of me. Do you have any idea how I…"

She stopped when her voice cracked, digging her fingernails into her palms. She would not break down in front of Iroh and Hau. She would not show them just how scared she was. They'd only just become friends again, had only just decided to be selfish and snatch whatever joy they could find in a world that was sure to only give them misery. When he'd collapsed like that, it was as if all hope for happiness and love was tied to every breath he took.

Iroh and Hau made no excuse, simply leaving and closing the door quietly behind them, and as soon as the door was closed, Katara couldn't hold the tears back anymore. She sank to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest as she gave in. She wanted to yell at him some more so she could call him a fool and an idiot, but every time she opened her mouth, only these pathetic, blubbering sounds came out. Then there were his hands closing around hers, and Zuko grunting as he pulled her to her feet. She laid her head on his shoulder as he crushed her against him.

"I am _so_ sorry, Katara," he said as he rubbed her back.

Then he kissed her forehead, tightening his arms around her, and she was surrounded by everything that was _him_. It was even better than in her dreams, because this was _real_. This wasn't just the remembered weight of his arms or the imagined warmth that was something like being close to a good fire or the phantom sound of his voice when he would comfort her. This was him and when he placed his finger under her chin, her heart beat a staccato rhythm, knowing that Iroh was probably just outside the door, doing his best to listen. She didn't hesitate when he kissed her, relishing the feel of him against her, the way they fit perfectly. She rested her hands on his bare chest as heat rose in her cheeks. His hands slid down to her waist as he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along her lips, and spirits she was on _fire_, excited and nervous and thrilled and filled with the tempest of emotion he always kindled inside her. This was the way they were meant to be, and she didn't care that someone was knocking on the door.

But Zuko cared, and he was pulling away, his warmth receding and leaving her cold, but not before he planted the sweetest kiss on her cheek and gave her a soft, genuine smile. She shivered as she looked at the deep purple bruise on his stomach, wishing that he weren't so stubborn. He opened the door, and two of his cultural ministers barged in. They barely spared a thought for her, and Katara smiled softly to herself. It was time for Zuko to be the Fire Lord, and she only half listened as he answered their questions and made hollow promises to take better care of himself. It was like watching him put on a mask. One second he was her Zuko, young and confident, but sometimes unsure, and always…soft and gentle with her. Then he'd put on his mask of Fire Lord, and there was a different kind of confidence, almost domineering and very stern. He was far gentler with Ukani and Lide than he'd been with that captain, Toshi. They were strong supporters of his, but there was still an air of control and insistence. She leaned with her back against the table, crossing her arms as she watched his demeanor change again, becoming more firm as he gave them a list of tasks that needed to be completed by the end of the day, and instructing some things to be sent to his office. When they were dismissed, Katara walked over to Zuko with an armful of bandages.

"I'll write dad and let him know I'll be staying for a few more days."

She stood behind him, winding the fabric around his waist tightly enough to limit his movement while his muscles healed. She worked in a comfortable silence, and hadn't realized just how much she missed this silence they shared. When she was done, she placed her hands on his chest, focusing on the rise and fall as she laid her cheek against his back.

"I will never be able to describe the terror I felt," she whispered. "I will never be able to tell you how scared I was, then or now. I _cannot_ lose you."

Zuko turned to face her, and he placed his hand on her cheek. Katara leaned into his touch, delighting in his warmth and trying to banish the memories of him being so cold, of reaching out with her bending and knowing his fire had been extinguished. When he leaned forward, Katara met him halfway, excited by the little jolt she still felt in the pit of her stomach whenever they kissed. She pushed him back until he was sitting on the bed, then she straddled him, looking down into his eyes as his hands rested on her waist. She could read everything in him. She saw his stress and frustration, the pain his wounds caused him; she could read his sadness at having caused her and Iroh such distress and a halfhearted promise that he would be better, though everyone knew he would push himself just as hard. The longer she looked at him, the more he smiled, and it was infectious, and Katara found herself smiling, too.

"What made you come back?" he asked, burying his face in her chest.

How could she explain something so complicated? In their relationship, she'd felt nearly every emotion imaginable. She'd been afraid of him, hated him, detested him, she'd been confused by him, and trusted him, then was betrayed by him. She'd been suspicious of him, had even pitied him, then accepted him, and believed in him, had felt thankful for him, felt safe with him, had needed him, had desired him. She took an unsteady breath as she ran her hands through his hair.

"No one understands me the way you do," she said quietly. "I came back because I missed my best friend. You push me to be better, and you never just brush me off. You listen, Zuko. You've never once told me to just go to sleep, I'll be less cranky in the morning."

Katara slid off Zuko's lap and sat next to him.

"I thought I would be saving us some pain, but you're too important for me to just…" she waved her hand, not really sure what she was trying to say. "When you opened the door, everything came flooding back, and I knew I would regret it if I didn't say something. You belong in my life, whether you're my friend or my lo…"

They looked at each other, and Katara felt suddenly girlish and very foolish, sure that her cheeks were so red they were glowing. Zuko just stared at her, eyes wide and mouth open, looking completely shocked. But really, he shouldn't be shocked. Neither one of them should be shocked, right? That's what they were to each other. It was more than friendship, and it was pointless to deny it, so why dance around the word? They may have refused to name it once, because they were so unsure and there was still the issue of the war, but wouldn't it be ok to name it, now? To at least acknowledge that it was something more than hormones and secret sharing?

"I'm sure you've got a lot of work to get to," she said, practically jumping off the bed and heading to his dresser. "I've wound the bandages tightly enough to restrict much of your movement. Over the next few days, I'll do two healing sessions, one in the morning, and one in the evening. But you've got to rest, ok?"

"Katara, wait," he said, shooting off the bed and instantly regretting it.

"Like I said, take it easy."

She gloved her hand in water and gently massaged his muscles, easing the ache. That, of course, brought them close together, and she could feel the warmth rolling off of him.

"I just… What…" Zuko took a deep breath. "What were you going to say?"

Katara shrugged, practically tossing her healing water back into its bowl, then getting Zuko's shirt.

Iroh knocked on the door only twice before shoving his head in, no doubt hoping to catch something. But all there was for him to see was his nephew looking shocked, still, as Katara helped him into his shirt.

"Ah, how is our disobedient patient, dearest Katara?"

"He'll be fine," she muttered, pinching Zuko and hoping he'd stop making that face, because really, he was just embarrassing her. She tugged the belt at his waist a little harder than necessary, but it got the job done.

"That is good news," Iroh said with a suspiciously wide smile. "I am glad that the two of you have made up as well."

Zuko shrugged and headed for the door, no doubt going to do more work.

She still heard his whispered "me, too," and maybe her hand still tingled, just a little, from his touch. 

* * *

A/N: First and foremost, all thanks goes to PurseMonger for their being an extra two chapters to this story. I'm much happier with the ending, and it's given me some space to have a truly profound Zutara moment (next chapter). It's been an absolute delight talking with you!

As I was writing this, I was thinking about the way Katara's healing would work. I imagine the temptation is to just heal everything all the way all the time, but I can't see that as being good for the body. If she were to fully heal Zuko after the final battle, I think his body might go into overload, and it'd probably be _extremely_ painful for him. You're forcing skin and muscles to grow and knit together and all that jazz. This is something she'd have to learn from the healers in the North. Plus it wouldn't do to go around waterbending healing every wound all the time. Something something body's natural defenses, I don't know. I slept during biology in high school. Anyway, it would be up to Zuko to rest and go to the palace healers, but I just see him getting so busy and often forgetting. Katara got him in working shape, so he'd think he's fine. Plus, I see him not really wanting to let people know just how injured he is because assassins.


	7. Chapter 7

A few days turned into two weeks, not that Zuko was complaining. It would have been shorter if Katara wasn't such a busybody, always finding more people who needed help. They were sitting out in the garden by the turtleduck pond, Katara laying on her stomach and reading an adventure scroll while he went over some of the newest school curriculums, hoping to weed out the last of the indoctrination, and more than occasionally sneaking peeks at his companion.

The sun was setting on her last day in the Fire Nation, and Zuko found that he didn't mind. He felt much lighter than he'd felt in so long, and there was always the promise that she'd be back, and that they didn't have to pretend that nothing had passed between them. They didn't have to pretend that they weren't more than friends. In front of others, maybe, but he could handle that so long as they didn't have to lie to themselves.

"Are you going to finish your work, or are you just going to stare at me?"

Katara smiled and bits of him melted, because there had been a real possibility that she could have been removed from his life. Her presence had changed him once, and he knew that her absence would change him again. If she'd stuck by what she said, had broken off an entire part of their relationship…

"You were going to say we were lovers, right?"

She smiled, blushing as she turned back to her book, playing with one of the pages. Zuko took a deep breath and leaned back against the tree. There was no way he'd be able to remain part of their group if it would mean seeing Katara with someone else and knowing that he'd never get to love her. There was no way he'd be able to subject himself to such punishment. She peeked back at him, her eyes half closed, and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Do you think it's ok to name it?" he whispered. "I mean, we weren't naming it before."

Katara shrugged, looking at him over her shoulder. "But it's ours, right?"

Zuko couldn't help smiling like an idiot, and he buried his face in his reports, hoping to hide from her, and knowing that he never could. She was watching him just as intently as he'd been watching her earlier.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair with just Zuko, Katara, and of course, Iroh, who seemed disproportionately happy. The doors opened, and the servants entered, laying out a modest spread which, much to Katara's frustration, included more work for Zuko. He could see the wheels turning in her head the longer he looked through papers and made notes. Halfway through dinner, she was fully frowning at him, her eyes narrowed in that way that said he was in for full on Katara Rage. Iroh saw no reason to intervene on his nephew's behalf.

"Two weeks," she said, her hands going to her hips. "Two weeks I've been here, and you haven't had one meal where you weren't working."

Zuko blinked at her over the edge of his teacup.

"Have you seen my office—"

"This is why you're so stressed—"

"Yes, because it couldn't possibly half the world hates the Fire Nation—"

"I'm your healer, Zuko, and you have to listen to me—"

"No, I don't. I'm wearing the crown. This is my nation. You are _my_ guest."

"Oh, screw your crown."

Iroh calmly sipped his tea, then poured himself another cup as if Katara wasn't about to take the argument to the next level. Zuko had seen her do it with Sokka a thousand times, and he'd seen her attempt this with Toph too many times to count. Back at the Western Air Temple, he would have caved to her without any argument. He probably would have caved to her when they were hiding out on Ember Island, too. But now? Iroh chuckled as Katara's eyes became slits, and her mouth became a thin line of anger, and a little voice in the back of his mind came out of nowhere and asked if he wouldn't like to kiss away that anger. Zuko cleared his throat and took a long sip of his tea because, yes, he would like to kiss away that anger.

"I'm the Fire Lord," he said, focusing on his papers. "I make the rules. When you're Fire Lord, you can make whatever rules you want."

"Oh, believe me, I will. I…"

Her eyes got wide as she realized what she'd said, and Zuko wanted nothing more than to punch himself for blushing the way he was, because his whole face was like a furnace. Katara tried to shrink back, covering her face with her hands. They both snuck a peek at Iroh, who just grinned as he looked from one reddened face to the other.

"I can leave if there is something the two of you must discuss," he offered.

"There's nothing to discuss," they both shouted, perhaps a little too loudly.

"We're just friends," Zuko grumbled.

"I didn't mean it like that," Katara said, resting her chin on her cheek as she looked out of the window.

There would be no end to the amount of harassment he would suffer, now.

* * *

Zuko paced anxiously around his room, rubbing his stomach. He felt nervous and giddy and his heart was beating twice as fast as it normally would. It had been this way every night for the past two weeks, and the thrill still hadn't worn off. He wasn't complaining, really. He loved it. He would miss it.

There was a tiny knock on the false panel, and Zuko tried his hardest not to run to it as it slid to the side, and Katara poked her head out. She had the biggest, most beautiful smile, and she giggled as she slid the panel back in place.

"Did you know the secret passages have secret passages?"

Zuko laughed, feeling a happiness that made the day's frustrations and anger slip away. When she opened her arms, he went to her, hugging her close and kissing the top of her head.

"It would be impossible to keep the secret passages a secret, so they're as confusing as possible."

"Sokka would love it in there."

They stood in silence in the middle of his room, and it was beautiful, but Zuko could feel a bit of sadness starting to creep in. This was the only way they'd be able to steal some time together and be unguarded, and Zuko had told Katara about the secret passages, how they could sneak around without being watched. He'd walked her back and forth from her room to his, making sure she memorized the route and didn't get lost. That had been the easy part.

"Just don't tell him, ok?" Zuko whispered. "He _will_ get lost."

The hard part turned out to be pretending that they were only friends during the day. Pretending that she didn't come to him, or he didn't go to her every night. Pretending that he didn't know the way her lips felt against his, or the way she sounded when she moaned his name. It was hard to pretend that she couldn't stop his heart with a smirk or make him lose all coherent thought when her hands were on him.

"Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

She pulled away from him slightly, and when she looked at him, her eyes were shining, and the firelight made her skin glow with a beautiful golden hue. He loved the way she looked in the middle of the night, her hair messy, her robe loose and sometimes hanging off one shoulder. He tucked her hair behind her ear, and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

"Will it always hurt this much?" she whispered.

"I don't—"

"Lie to me."

Instead, he kissed her, because he didn't want to tell her that everything would work out for the better, because he refused to acknowledge what their future could be. She responded to him almost immediately, standing on the tips of her toes, her hand resting on his bare shoulder. She shivered when he moved his hand from the back of her neck to trail lightly down her spine, and her breath hitched, even as she deepened the kiss, grabbing onto him almost desperately. Zuko tried hard to focus on the feel of her in his arms, pressed against him, the smell of her, everything that was her in that moment. He tried to fix this image in his memory and blot out thoughts of her leaving the next day. He kissed along her jaw, tossing her hair over her shoulder so he could kiss her neck, as she grabbed a fistful of his hair.

"Spirits above…"

He tried to let the sound of her voice, soft and slightly hoarse, blot out the blooming pain in his heart. The other nights hadn't been like this; they'd manage to keep the weight of her departure from settling over them. He just wished he could do it on this last night.

"Why are you stopping?" she asked as he pulled away.

Zuko didn't hold back a slight smile, pointing to his bandaged middle.

"No strenuous activity. Doctor's orders."

"When have you ever listened to me?" she asked, blushing.

She gave him a quick peck on the lips as she began undoing the bandages. The bruise had faded considerably thanks to her healing, and it only gave him a little twinge of pain from time to time. Still, he did his best to take it easy like she said. Katara waved him over to the bed as she went to get a bowl and some water for healing, and when she came back, she straddled him, hands resting on his chest.

"So," she said.

"So," he said.

Her robe had slipped off her shoulder again, and Zuko looked away before realizing there was no point. When he looked at her again, Katara was smiling, her arms crossed and her robe falling open to the waist.

"Suddenly, you're so shy," she said, finally beginning to heal him.

He shrugged and put his hands on her waist, watching her face change as she concentrated, the water beginning to glow. He could feel it seeping deep inside of him, seeking out damage and tension, and soothing cool spread through his body. Zuko relaxed against the pillows with a contented sigh, and Katara's eyes flicked up to him, a smile spreading across her face.

He loved her.

He loved her.

He watched her work, and there was no way he could deny it to himself. He'd said it once, before shoving her into Aang so he could protect her during the comet. He'd said it then because he didn't think he'd survive, and there'd been something blossoming inside his heart for sure, but also because he didn't want to leave her without her knowing the depth of his feelings. But now, alone in his room, in the middle of the night, just watching her and seeing her smile, he _knew_.

"Katara, I…"

But it would almost be cruel to say something, wouldn't it? She was holding her breath, though, he could tell by the way she'd gone completely still, and not even her water was shifting inside of him. Zuko took a deep breath, tried to get his mouth to form the words, to force them out. Nothing came out, not even any half formed words. Sighing, he ran his hands over his face, and Katara finished her healing, sending the water back to the bowl. Zuko looked away.

"I know," she said.

Zuko pushed himself up so he could look in her eyes, because even if he couldn't make his mouth form those words, he wanted her to know. She smiled at him, almost coy, her eyes half closed and her hair hanging around her shoulders.

"I can never thank you enough for everything you've done for me."

She shrugged. "It's nothing less than you would have done for me. Than what you _have_ done for me."

He kissed her, and she held his face in her hands, caressing his scar. Her touch made his heart flutter, and when she leaned forward, the ends of her hair brushing his chest it was like every part of him was on fire. He could have stayed there, underneath her with her hands roaming over his body, for the rest of eternity.

* * *

Katara didn't mind that Zuko wasn't able to see her off the next afternoon. He'd apologized to her a thousand times since breakfast, and Iroh even left them alone for lunch. They ended up talking business—reconstruction and redistribution of wealth, trade and changing attitudes. But it was nice, and when she said goodbye to him outside one of his meeting rooms, Katara couldn't help smiling. It was this image of him that she would keep in her mind for a very long time. He stood there, so very different from every Fire Lord before him, his clothes cut closer to the body for greater freedom of movement. The Fire Lord's mantle was nestled on his shoulders, sometimes almost looking too big for him, but he wore it proudly, never stooping under its weight. His crown gleamed in the early afternoon sunlight, like a beacon of hope that things would be changing for the better.

"Master Katara?"

Minister Hau's voice pulled Katara toward the present. The docks were busy with thousands of people and ships coming and going. Birds cawed overhead, and Katara took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air. Zuko might not have been there to see her off, but Minister Hau, Mistress Yina, Cultural Ministers Ukani and Lide and Iroh were all gathered there, along with a small retinue of soldiers, including General Jee.

"Really, you all didn't need to come to see me off," she said.

"You have our unending thanks, Master Katara," Hau said, bowing low to her. "No matter what anyone may say, you have done this nation a great service."

Katara blushed and tried to wave away the sentiment. "I was just helping an old friend."

"We can't overlook the work you've done with the hospitals while you were here," Minister Lide said, shielding her eyes against the sun. "You truly are a master healer, and those who work with you have nothing but positive things to say. All of you have done this world a great service."

"You will always have our thanks, our respect, and our admiration," Hau said, handing her a package. "And his majesty's thanks as well. He, again, sends his regrets that he couldn't be here this afternoon, and wishes you safe travels."

Katara accepted the package with trembling hands, almost afraid to open it, wondering just what Zuko could have gotten her so quickly. And when he even had the time. She could have kicked herself for blushing again while looking at the package, because Iroh was watching her more intently than anyone else. If anyone posed a threat to her and Zuko's secret, it would be Iroh, and he'd probably start snooping the moment she was gone. Still, she went to him when he held his arms open, and she hugged him tightly, loving the faint scent of tea that hung around him. When she tried to pull away, he didn't let go.

"If there are buds in the garden," he whispered, "I would not mind helping to tend to them. I do enjoy gardening. Seeing the flowers bloom is…so rewarding."

Iroh held her at arm's length, scrutinizing her as she clutched Zuko's gift to her chest.

"No," she said as firmly as she could. "No gardening."

"Ah, well, then." Iroh sounded more than a little disappointed. "My nephew is very lucky to have such a good friend."

"I know you never needed my help with the Jasmine Dragon, Iroh," Katara said, narrowing her eyes at him. "It's ok, though. I didn't mind. We needed a gentle push.

Iroh laughed long and loudly, shoving his hands deep into his sleeves and not bothering to deny his secret motives. Behind them, the captain of the ship gave the final boarding call, and Minister Hau stepped forward.

"Lastly, his majesty requests that I ask you to have Lord Sokka send more…_seal jerky_. I am, however, inclined to believe that he doesn't exactly need it."

"I'll have Sokka send a little. I suspect that if it doesn't arrive on schedule, he'll write to Sokka directly."

"Safe travels, Master Katara"

Hau moved back with the others, and they all bowed to her, and Katara returned the gesture, feeling unendingly proud. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. It felt damn good to be recognized, especially after everything she'd done with the North. She boarded the ship that would take her on the first leg of her journey home, and stayed on deck, watching the Fire Nation recede.

Far out onto the open waters, Katara took a deep breath, finally ready to open the gift Zuko had given her. Standing at the edge of the deserted deck, she took the top off the box, and a tiny slip of paper in Zuko's beautiful handwriting was on top.

_This is ours, right?_

Her breath caught as she saw the jewelry underneath. It was a slim cuff bracelet covered in tiny sapphires and diamonds. It glittered in the sun, and Katara slipped it out of the box and onto her wrist, thinking it was far too extravagant for her. But it was fine to have nice things from time to time, right? And it was a gift from her best friend. It's not like she couldn't _not_ wear it. She deserved it.

With a final glance in the direction of the Fire Nation, Katara headed below deck feeling far more content and at peace than she'd felt in a very long time. Inside her room, she laid down on the bed, holding her wrist to her heart. They deserved these little selfish interludes, all of them did. Zuko was right—they'd given themselves to the world, and would probably never have total control over their lives.

But this? Katara twisted her new bracelet around her arm.

This was theirs.

* * *

A/N: And thus, we come to the end of this lovely story. I'm much happier with this ending than the previous one, and hopefully it hits you guys right in the feels. There's much fluff, and the beginning of Zuko's extravagant gift-giving. Not really much else to say about this chapter other than it was a bitch to finally get down the last bits of it. I like to think that, wherever they go, the Gaang finds people who supremely respects them for ending the war and the sacrifices they've made. This group may also pity them because they understand that they're just kids, and they're in for a hard life. And, of course, Iroh's meddling. He means well, but he probably won't take no for an answer. Until next time!


End file.
